


drabble dump 001

by oikaywas (aureations)



Series: drabble dumps [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Kissing, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureations/pseuds/oikaywas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is infuriating and Shirabu almost considers telling him to fuck off again. | The corner of his mouth quirks upwards when he notices Tooru staring. | Something that tastes like dread crawls up his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drabble dump 001

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kim_quim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kim_quim/gifts).



 

 

**( oikawa/shirabu; prompt: teasing )**

 

 

Oikawa Tooru may be a talented setter and admittedly okay looking but unfortunately he was also a bit of an asshole. In fact, he was a lot of an asshole, with a stupidly pretty mouth that _would not shut up_. Honestly, there's only so long that Shirabu could stand his bullshit for before telling him to fuck off. Or fuck him. Probably both.

Actually, that was probably his mistake, Shirabu thinks as the cold metal of the lockers press uncomfortably against his back, the older boy looming over him, grinning.

"I didn't know you thought my mouth was pretty, Shirabu-chan," the other boy says, with a gleam in his eyes that’s decidedly _not_ good for Shirabu’s health, “Or that you had such a mouth on _you_.”

He is _infuriating_ and Shirabu almost considers telling him to fuck off again. Instead, he fists his hand into the front of Oikawa’s shirt and _pulls_ , crashing his lips to Oikawa’s, reveling in the way his mouth falls open in surprise. Shirabu nips harshly on his bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside Oikawa’s mouth. The asshole even _tastes_ smug, the mocking curve of his lips that Shirabu can feel against his, cloyingly sweet, like the almost taste of honey, yet with underlying bitter notes. Shirabu really shouldn’t find it as appealing as he does, pressing in closer to Oikawa’s addictive heat, his eyes sliding closed reflexively.

Shirabu starts when he feels fingers in his hair, trailing down to play with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, and palms, calloused and hot on the side of Shirabu’s face, angling his mouth upwards. Oikawa kisses like he plays volleyball, thorough and intense, licking into Shirabu’s mouth, making him let out a reluctant moan.

And then suddenly, he _stops_ , breaking away completely, leaving Shirabu cold and wanting.

"Well," Oikawa says brightly, as if he hasn't just spent the last ten minutes with his tongue down Shirabu's throat, "This has been fun and all but I probably should be going. Wouldn't want people to think you're associating with an _asshole_ like me, right?"

His grin grows wider and he throws a, "Until next time, Shirabu-chan!" over his shoulder as he leaves the locker room.

A trail of cursing follows him out.

 

 

**( oikawa/futakuchi;[prompt](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/7182.html?thread=2603022#cmt2603022) )**

 

 

His lips are red, Tooru notes, and when Futakuchi sticks his bottom lip out, full and enticing in a playful pout, he can see the shine of gloss smeared perfectly across them.

The corner of his mouth quirks upwards when he notices Tooru staring. “What are you looking at?” he smiles, teasing and coy, those lovely lips of his curled into an infuriating smirk that makes Tooru want to kiss it off him.

Instead, Tooru moves closer, rubbing his thumb against Futakuchi’s bottom lip as they part unconsciously for him. He watches Futakuchi’s soft exhale as Tooru lifts his thumb up, tongue darting out to taste cherry.

“You,” Tooru murmurs, his voice a low rumble.

Futakuchi’s smirk widens as he moves closer, pressing himself against Tooru, until their bodies are slotted together, hot and perfect. “Yeah?” Futakuchi breathes, and he’s so close, close enough for Tooru to feel his words against his mouth, just out of reach.

“Yeah,” Tooru says, his reply lost as he presses his mouth against Futakuchi’s, nipping and licking at the smooth cherry gloss, smudging its perfect shape across the delicate bow of his lips before delving deeper. He loses himself in the heat of Futakuchi's mouth, slipping his tongue inside, tasting cherries, sweet and addicting.

Breaking away for a moment, Tooru takes the chance to look at Futakuchi, flushed and panting slightly, reaching out to run his fingers lightly across his open mouth, red and kiss-swollen.

"You have such a pretty mouth, Kenji-kun," Tooru says, his fingers sticky with gloss. "It would be such a waste," he continues, trailing his fingers down Futakuchi's neck, leaving trails of messy, red gloss, "to feed it only kisses. Don't you think?"

At this, Futakuchi rolls his eyes, "I'm not sure what you mean, Oikawa- _san_ ," he replies, deliberately biting down on his bottom lip. Tooru chuckles, gripping his jaw with the palm of his hand, slipping two fingers firmly into Futakuchi's mouth, gloss sloppy and ruined. He watches as Futakuchi sucks on them lightly, his tongue flicking to reach the web of Tooru's fingers, coating them with saliva, wet and messy.

Running his other hand up the length of Futakuchi's back, Tooru grasps the back of his neck, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of his ear and feeling Futakuchi shiver against him.

"I'm sure you do," Tooru murmurs, as he pushes Futakuchi down gently, removing his slick fingers from Futakuchi's mouth, watching as his lips fall open for him, waiting, the perfect invitation.

 

 

**( iwaoi;[prompt](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/7182.html?thread=2646542#cmt2646542) )**

 

 

“Iwa-chan,” he hears and he looks up, dizzy and disorientated. Oikawa stands before him, the setting sun lighting up the flicks of his hair, messy and perfect like the rest of him. His eyes are serious, intense, the way they look before an important game and they’re focused on Hajime as if he is trying to bore into his very soul.

Something that tastes like dread crawls up his throat.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says again, words light, tone playful but there's something in his eyes that makes Hajime's breath catch in his throat, makes it dry and painful, his voice unable to speak.

"I'm sorry, Iwa-chan," Oikawa continues and he's smiling wide and fake, the way Hajime hates the most for all it's forced unnaturalness on Oikawa's features, "But I'm just, so tired. I can't do this anymore, Iwa-chan" he says and Hajime feels the ground beneath his feet start to shake.

"I tried so hard," Oikawa is saying and Hajime can't breathe, he wants to scream, why, what, his head barely parsing the words slipping out from Oikawa's mouth, "And I know you did too, we both tried so hard to love each other but-". Oikawa's laugh is a bitter thing, curling into Hajime's gut and hooking, pulling until he feels his blood, his life, spill out on the cold, concrete floor.

"I guess we just weren't meant to be, Iwa-chan" Hajime shakes his head, trying to tell Oikawa that he's wrong, that he's mistaken, that they were meant to be, the way they fit into each other so perfectly, the home he has, that they both have, curled up in each other, not knowing where one ends and the other begins but Oikawa looks at him, cold, hard and unforgiving, the way he does to many on the court and says, "I tried so hard to love you, Iwa-chan but it's destroying me, like it's destroying you."

Oikawa shakes his head, his feature tinged with sadness that Hajime feels to the bone, "It's okay, Iwa-chan. I'll always love you but I can't be in love with you any more."

Hajime reaches out, trying to catch him, feeling the ‘them’ slipping through his fingers, crying out, calling until his voice is hoarse, until all he remembers is Oikawa’s name but somehow never reaching him, never…

Hajime startles awake, hands cold and clammy, still reaching out for something that will never be in his grasp. He looks over to his bedside table where the second button of his uniform sits.

He throws it away.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why it took me like, two months, to post my saso stuff, but here it finally is, also, 0 points for guessing who my favourite character is omg,
> 
> come find me on [twitter!!!](www.twitter.com/oikaywas)


End file.
